


Dangers of Making Friends in the Library

by FaithlessBex



Category: Criminal Minds, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Moriarty is good at playing with geniuses, Spencer doesn't have good choice in friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6210154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaithlessBex/pseuds/FaithlessBex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 years ago, Dr. Spencer Reid met a genius friend in the library. Unfortunately for him, that friend was one Jim Moriarty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangers of Making Friends in the Library

Spencer could hardly fathom how he’d managed to get in this situation – sitting in interrogation across from three British men – for once the accused instead of the accuser. His team, he knew, was watching the proceedings. He had no illusions about the superior intellect of the two sharply dressed men building their case against his friend – against him.

“We’ve already explained to you what it is we are questioning you about, Dr. Reid.” The one in the suit, Mycroft Holmes, said. “Your relationship with one James Moriarty is of incredible importance to my brother and I, your cooperation would be much appreciated.”

“There isn’t much I can tell you, honestly.” Spencer said, looking more at the least intimidating figure in the room. “Jim… Jim was just someone I could talk to without having to stop and explain everything.” His gaze suddenly shifted to the third occupant of the room. “I’d think you of all people would understand that, Mr. Holmes.”

“I don’t think you understand the amount of trouble you could be in, Dr. Reid.” Mycroft leaned forward, staring intently at the younger man. “The man you’ve been calling a friend is the leader of an international criminal organization. Not only is refusing to answer the question a violation of your oath to catch criminals, it is also withholding evidence. Now if you’ll start from the beginning Doctor.”

Reid sighed, staring down at his hands before gesturing to the remaining seats. “Your brother and Doctor Watson may want to sit down. This is a long story.”

…

_He had met Jim only a week after Gideon had returned to the field – he’d been reading a book on the latest mathematical theories and hadn’t noticed the other man sit across from him until a musical chuckle broke through his thoughts. He introduced himself as Jim, “Just Jim, friendly neighborhood maths enthusiast”, and quickly pulled the young doctor into a deep discussion on the contents of the book he had already nearly finished._

_Now Spencer Reid was as straight as they come. Spending his entire teenage years as a college student on a relatively progressive campus helped him discover that much. But something about the Irishman had drawn him in. Perhaps it was the ability to finally have a deep conversation with someone at least as intelligent as him that was only a couple years his senior or the general charisma of the man, but he’d found himself walking back to his apartment with a phone number in his pocket and a promise of more conversation._

_They began to show up to the library at the same time. They never arranged it, but every other Saturday – discounting when the BAU had a case or when Jim was called back home – the two could be found without fail deep in conversation about highly advanced topics by noon. It was such a meeting on November 12, 2005 that they became more than just casual acquaintances._

…

“We were discussing the finer points of quantum mechanics. And I just blurted it out to someone I’d only known a few months. I wasn’t proud about shooting Dowd, but it wasn’t like I was exactly sorry he was dead. He was threatening an entire hospital including my boss and myself.”

An odd expression crossed Dr. Watson’s face, glancing over at the younger Holmes. “And how exactly did Moriarty react to that admission?” The detective asked, eyes gleaming in rapid thought.

Spencer shrugged. “He didn’t seem fazed by it. I suppose that should have tipped me off about him, but we’d debated a lot about morality and what criminals deserve. He was always adamant about people suffering what they themselves committed so Dowd getting shot in the head fit that perfectly. That doesn’t mean he was exactly jumping for joy that I’d killed a man. He just seemed… normal. I’m an FBI agent, we’re expected to shoot people eventually.”

He paused to stand, unable to stay seated any longer under the intense scrutiny. Instead he chose to address the people he knew were behind the mirrored glass. “But I suppose things changed between us after that.”

“How so?” Dr. Watson asked curiously.

“We talked about cases more than we did about academia. He seemed interested – and I suppose he was if he kept asking. Wanted to know every detail I could tell him and I did. Maybe I was just trying to keep one of the few friends I had at that point, but anything that wasn’t classified he knew. From how we come up with our profiles to the finer points of talking an unsub down.” He let out a bitter chuckle. “And then we went to Georgia.” He went quiet, thinking back.

…

_“Spencer Reid, if you don’t open this door right now, I will pick the lock and burn all your precious books.” The irate Irishman nearly shouted from outside his apartment. He’d skipped the library meeting three times now – denying him a month and a half’s worth of case stories. The Reid that opened the door was a horror, but Jim had taken it in stride. All his anger had vanished as soon as the pale and disheveled genius had let him in._

_“Jim, look, I’m really not in the mood to talk-”_

_“Yes, I quite got that impression from your stubborn refusal to answer my texts or make it known that you’re alive. If it weren’t for the fact that I read the local obituaries, I’d have thought you dead.” Spencer had tried to laugh, but Jim’s stern expression hadn’t disappeared. In fact, his frown only returned. “You’ve quit cold turkey without asking anyone to help you deal with the withdrawal. For a genius you are rather slow witted.”_

_He couldn’t quite bring himself to be surprised that the other had caught on. “I can’t tell the team. If they knew for sure, they’d be duty bound to report me. They suspect, probably know, but I can’t…”_

_Jim’s scowl, amazingly, became more pronounced. “Am I not your friend, Spencer?” Reid nodded. “Am I duty bound to report you to your beloved Bureau about your unfortunate addiction?” He shook his head. “Exactly. You have my number. You knew I was in the States. Even if I weren’t, I was only a call away. I help my friends, Spencer, in the hope that when I need them they’ll be there. Let me help you through this.”_

_And he had – even to the point of temporarily moving in with the younger man to sniff out all his hidden stashes of Dilaudid. He’d forced Spencer to dump out each bottle himself, to watch the clear liquid drain into the pipes instead of his bloodstream. When he’d left, it was with the severe warning that should he relapse, Spencer Reid would cease to exist._

…

“And what happened after Georgia, Dr. Reid?”

He turned to look at Mycroft again, completely calm and only a little bit defiant. “He helped me through some difficult things. PTSD mostly. He wasn’t patient but he was effective. Refused to coddle me through it. I understand he’s done horrible things to many people, including Dr. Watson, but that wasn’t how he acted around me. He fooled me. I’m sorry, but I don’t know much that will be of use for you.”

Mycroft nodded, standing. “We’ve been at this for a while, perhaps we should have a break. Sherlock, Doctor Watson.”

“I’ll be there in a moment.” The doctor replied, waiting until the brothers had left to continue. “I’m not going to accuse you of plotting against Sherlock, promise. I was just curious about something. How much of Moriarty’s kindness to you was an act, do you think?”

Spencer took a moment. “I’d like to think he liked me well enough. But he’s a master con artist and I played into his hands easily. I think he just likes having the undivided attention of someone who’s at least close to his level. I haven’t had much contact with him since he started reading up on Sherlock Holmes.”

“So you know as much as the rest of us.”

“About, yeah. But Dr. Watson… They’ve become enemies and when they clash it won’t be like this. It’ll be worse. If there’s anything true in what Jim Moriarty has shown me it’s that what you do and how you act will be your downfall. Sherlock is arrogant and rude and Jim knows it. He knows how to use it. And one day he will.”

Dr. Watson nodded, brow furrowing as he left. Spencer sighed, resting his head against the wall.

…

The team had stood vigil through the entire first part of the interview, watching their coworker in worry. JJ bit her lip. “Why is it always Spencer?”

“That’s it, I’m screening all of Pretty Boy’s friends from now on.” Morgan muttered, pacing the small room.

Rossi rolled his eyes at the display. “You really think you would have caught him, Morgan? He wasn’t on our radar. Hell I’m sure you would have just been happy the kid had a friend outside of work. All of us would.”

Derek turned, glaring at him. “Maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t mean they should be interrogating him. Reid’s a victim, not an accomplice. He fits Moriarty’s type. Isolated genius close to law enforcement. He’s playing with us, probably already knows that Holmes is here and that they’ve got him.”

Hotch sighed. “For now, all we can do is watch. They don’t have a case against him so he should be able to leave after they finish questioning him.”

The others settled down, Emily picking at her nails in worry. Jim Moriarty. It had been a long time since she’d heard that name.

…

The interview went on, dragging through every interaction. Gideon’s departure, how long it had taken him to get over it, even with Jim nagging at him.

“He’d say that Gideon was a coward for not just saying it to me directly that he was leaving and that he could have at the very least not left me sitting in his office waiting to play a game of chess.” Spencer paused. “We did that a lot. Chess. I hadn’t wanted to play after, but Jim refused to leave until I had played one game. He beat me embarrassingly.”

Dr. Watson sighed, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. Sherlock’s eyes immediately darted to his companion. “Something wrong, John?”

“No, nothing, I’m fine. It’s just… Shouldn’t we focus more on his… recent activity? Maybe after he’d noticed Sherlock?”

Spencer sat up. “Actually, I remember when he first mentioned you to me. About a year ago. He was late to the library, excited and almost bouncing.”

…

_Reid looked up from his book when the familiar form of Jim Moriarty sat across from him. “Something happen?”_

_“Sherlock Holmes.” The name left the Irishman’s mouth in a purr._

_“Boyfriend?”_

_Jim rolled his eyes, annoyance clear as day. “No, you twit. Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective.” He paused. “I forgot. You’re an old man who refutes all modern technology. He works with Scotland Yard in London, has an almost perfect clear record for cases he takes on. Only things that interest him.”_

_Reid closed the book, smiling. “So he’s a genius then. Glad you found one closer to home, you can stop asking me for confidential information.”_

_“Oh no no no, Spencer. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He smiled and relief washed over the agent. “Now, speaking of confidential information…”_

…

“And after that we split time between my cases and what he knew about you, Mr. Holmes. By the way, your cigarette ash analysis was fascinating. Shame that you took it down. I’ve been meaning to ask you about –” The sound of a phone vibrating cut Spencer off. He pulled the device out of his pocket, flipping it open. “Dr. Spencer Reid, who’s this?”

“Hello Spencer.” The Irish lilt made him stiffen.

“Jim.” Mycroft gestured for him to put the phone on speaker.

“I know you’re with the Holmes boys and their lovely pet, Dr. Watson. I assume I’m on speakerphone.” Jim’s voice filled the room.

“Yes, they’re all here.”

“That’s good. Because you see, I’ve got quite a conundrum now Spencer. I’ve put quite a lot of work into you. Spent hours and hours gaining your trust, learning all about you and those dull little people you call ‘your team’. But you, you’re a fascinating mind. Sherlock was fascinating too but I worked him out a long time ago and so now he’s grown rather boring. He’s arrogant and I do hate arrogant people.”

Spencer chuckled. “Which is ironic, coming from you. Don’t you think calling other people dull is arrogant?”

He could almost hear Jim waving his hands. “So I don’t like people that are like me. I’m allowed to have one ordinary trait to make the rest of me extraordinary. But we’re getting off subject, my dear. I’ve a proposition. You come to me – alone – and I won’t start picking off your team members. If you think I won’t, Aaron Hotchner should be receiving a phone call about the untimely death of Miss Elle Greenaway. You know exactly where to find me, Spencer. Don’t keep me waiting long.”


End file.
